Welcome to the moor of my mind, to the bog of my mood. In this place you'll find reflections in a shattered mirror, shadows in an autumnal day, changing dark clouds in my mind's nocturnal sky. This place is such a stuff as dreams and nightmares are made on, a journey record which gives shape to a different world. Welcome to my world.
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Sunday, 8 February 2015
Polvere
Polvere, troppi ricordi, e' meglio esser sordi. E forse e' gia' tardi per togliere la polvere...
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